


103

by Chasing_Crows



Series: Winter Break in Gravity Falls [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Childhood Memories, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fever, Gen, Ice Cream, Illnesses, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chasing_Crows/pseuds/Chasing_Crows
Summary: Ford has a serious fever, and the Pines are brought closer while caring for him.
Relationships: Stan Pines & The Pines Family
Series: Winter Break in Gravity Falls [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101728
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	103

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this story comes from my headcanon that even after months, Stan's childhood memories are still difficult for him to access. He has most of his memory here, but the really old stuff is too deeply buried for him to remember.

Stan pushed the door to Ford’s room open to find the bed piled high with what had to be at least five blankets. The room was dim, the lamp on his nightstand the only light on. “Hey, you alive under there?” Stan asked.

The mound of covers shifted and groaned.

“Okay, good to hear. Mabel was gonna bring this to you, but she had to take that pig out first. Figured you might want it before it gets cold.” He placed a mug of steaming chicken broth on the nightstand beside a chart in Dipper’s handwriting. Curious, he picked it up to examine it. “Yeesh, this kid thinks of everything, huh?” His nephew had created a table outlining the time of day, body temperature, when Ford had last taken ibuprofen, when and what he had eaten, and even how he was feeling on a scale of one to ten. A few of those slots were simply occupied by sad face stickers rather than numbers that hovered around five, no doubt from Mabel. “So, still feelin’ like this?” he said, pointing to a frown on the page.

“Honestly, I feel like death. My head is foggy and my whole body hurts. I’m freezing then burning at the flip of a switch. My chart isn’t very accurate as to not worry the children, but if a gremloblin made eye contact with me, all I would see is myself lying in bed exactly as I am now.”

“Ugh, don’t be such a drama queen. You’ve been through how many dimensions and made it out alive, so I’m sure you’ll be fine. Here,” he handed him the thermometer and waited to hear it beep.

Ford removed it from beneath his tongue and read the display. “102.4 with ibuprofen still in my system- let me complain at least a little.”

“Uhhh, is that bad?”

His brother added the new data to his chart and shrugged. “As long as it stays under 103 I should be fine on my own. My fever keeps dancing right up to that point but doesn’t get any higher, so hopefully the ibuprofen can keep it in check. I don’t want to go to the doctor, but I’m not so young anymore. At first I thought Dipper was worrying too much with this chart, but it’s actually been a great way to track this blasted fever. Hopefully more rest and time will be enough to get me back on my feet.”

“Yeah, well, you should drink the soup while it’s still hot. Mabel worked real hard to dissolve that bullion in water by herself, you know.”

Ford gave a tiny smile and took the mug in his hands. “I’m so cold right now, I might just hold this to get warm instead.”

“Yeah, well, you’d probably be warmer if you’d actually drink the stuff. You need food?”

Footsteps raced down the hallway and a breathless Mabel appeared in the doorway. “Grunkle Stan! Where’s my soup?”

“Relax, ol’ Sixer’s got it right here, sweetie.”

Ford weakly lifted his mug to her. “Okay, well make sure you drink it all so you can feel better. Mom says you have to stay really hydrated when you’re sick,” she said.

“Thank you, I will.”

Stan walked towards the door and his niece. “Well, just shout if you’re gonna die or something- we’ll let you drink your soup in misery now. Come on, pumpkin, Ford should try to rest more.”

He guided Mabel into the hall, and she looked over her shoulder to see her uncle one last time as Stan grabbed the doorknob behind them. Before the door clicked shut, she was able to call, “feel better!”

\- - -

For once in his life, Dipper was annoying Stan more with his mouth shut than if he were talking. They were supposed to be restocking the gift shop together, but the kid kept sneaking peeks at his phone when he thought Stan wasn’t looking. He was more jumpy than normal, and Stan only kept him working since his nephew was arranging merchandise on the bottom shelf and Stan didn’t feel like bending over and putting that strain on his back.

“Hey kid, are we working here or getting all sweaty over texts from Wendy?”

“Shut up.” Dipper’s face flushed. “I was researching fevers online, and it actually says here tha-”

“Oh, you still worried about the nerd?”

“Grunkle Stan, it’s been three days and he’s still not better. I don’t think he’s gotten out of bed besides to go to the bathroom.”

“Settle down, kid. He said we’re in the clear as long as he stays under 103, and so far he’s been okay.” Stan shrugged and hoped his nephew was convinced.

“Yeah, but his temperature is _close_ to 103. What if he doesn’t get better? What if he needs special medicine or something? Wha-”

“ _Dipper_ \- relax. My brother has twelve PhDs, and if he says he’s fine, he’s _fine_. Besides, he spent thirty odd years dimension hopping and lived to brag about it, so what’s your worryin’ gonna help?”

“But-”

“Listen,” Stan said, “if he’s gonna pull through on his own, going to a hospital would be a waste. It’s not worth the money and hassle when the old man’s still kickin’. I’ll go talk to him about it if it’ll make you quit your stressin’.”

“He was sleeping before we started.”

“Well, that’s good news then. Rest will help. Ford’s not gonna let a little fever get him, so give him time and he’ll be okay. He’s not young like you and might just need more time. Now quit fidgeting and get back to work before you make me sick, too.”

Dipper gave an exaggerated sigh and continued unloading the box at his feet, but Stan decided his silence was worth the price of the attitude.

\- - -

As promised, once they were finished in the gift shop, Stan went to his brother’s room to find it dark. He was slowly pulling the door shut again when Ford’s voice found him. “Stan?”

Stan pushed the door open and stuck his head in. “Hey Sixer, you’re givin’ Dipper gray hair worrying about you.”

Ford let out a weak laugh. “He just wants to join the club.”

Ford reached over to turn the lamp on, and Stan entered. He grabbed the chair from the desk and pulled it to face his brother, who was huddled into a ball on his side.

“You know what? I think you’re just being a big baby about this so you can get all the attention on you. How many times have the kids popped in to check on you today alone?”

“You’re only jealous they’re paying more attention to me. Give me that thermometer.” Stan handed it over, and Ford jammed it in his mouth. Once ready, the corners of Ford’s lips turned up ever so slightly before saying, “101.8 with ibuprofen, so I’d say the attention is warranted.”

“Only my brother would be so smug as to be happy about still having a fever. You’d better wipe that smile off your face and get over yourself soon so those kids can stop fussing. Maybe then they’d actually be somewhat useful around here.”

Ford laughed again. “I’d say they’re being quite useful. I haven’t had to worry about cooking or making my own hot drinks in days. Maybe I’ll stay sick just to spite you.”

Stan extended his leg and kicked Ford in the shoulder. “I don’t care if you’re bedridden, you deserved that.”

“Ow.” Ford shifted beneath the covers in what Stan guessed was him rubbing the spot where his foot had landed. “You know, the way you’re painting me reminds me a lot of that one time you got strep when we were kids.”

Stan glanced around the room, refusing to meet his brother’s eye. “Uhhh… yeah, that one’s lost on me.” The playful mood of the room vanished as the two brothers sobered.

Ford cleared his throat and readjusted himself. “Do you remember even a little?” Stan shook his head. “Okay, well- right. When we were around eight years old, you got a bad case of strep. Pa insisted we let you wait it out and try to heal on your own before taking you to the doctor.”

“Hey, what are you tryin’ to say? Is this a guilt trip for me not taking you to the hospital?”

“No, no. What I was going to tell you about was how much Ma fussed over you before finally taking you in. You stayed in bed for a couple good days before we got you the right medicine, and despite your illness, you seemed to relish being waited on hand and foot. You had Ma eating out of the palm of your hand, loving every minute of it. You were even able to convince her to let you have ice cream all day since the cold soothed your throat. You got away with eating nothing but Rocky Road for two days straight- that stuff was your favorite.”

Stan grunted. “Yeah, well you could be making that up just to make me empathize with you now somehow. You could say whatever you wanted about our childhood and I’d have to believe it.”

Ford drew the covers tighter around himself. “Yes, I suppose I could, but I’m being serious right now. Ma would put her whole life on hold when we’d get sick so she could be there if we’d need anything. She’d get so worried about everything, even the tiniest sniffles. Even through her worry, I think she liked taking care of us like that, though, and when we were young, we liked it just as much.”

“Hmm,” was all Stan could manage to get out.

Ford coughed. “Anyway, I guess it’s good we’ve got the kids around now. Maybe they share the worry between the two of them so it’s more manageable.”

The mention of the kids brought Stan back to a lighter mood. “Yeah, those two sure are somethin’ else. I guess since they’re fussing over you so much I don’t have to waste my energy here.”

“Oh, if you really didn’t want to worry about me, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Don’t make me kick you again,” but Stan smiled at his brother anyway.

\- - -

The next morning, Stan entered the kitchen to the smell of brewing coffee. Ford was in the process of unloading several brown paper bags, even though it was only 7:28 am. “Why- did you go grocery shopping?” He rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing up so early?”

Ford ignored Stan’s grumpiness and, cheerfully as ever, said, “I’m feeling much better now, and since I’ve been sleeping for the majority of the past several days, when I woke up a few hours ago I was too alert to sleep more. I figured I’d make good use of my time and do some chores. You’ve been feeding me, so now you don’t need to worry about what to eat for a while.”

Stan peeked inside an untouched grocery bag and found a collection of frozen pizzas and chicken nuggets. “This is hardly anything to write home about.”

Ford held up a bag of apples with one hand and waved a bunch of bananas in the other. “I got more than just that, and you know I’m not much of a cook, anyway. Besides, those will be easy meals the kids will like.”

Ford continued unloading, and Stan rifled through the rest of the bag. He took the pizzas and nuggets to the freezer, and when he opened the door was met with several containers of ice cream. There was butter pecan, mint chocolate chip, vanilla bean, cookie dough, and two rocky roads. “What’s all this?”

“I thought you might like it, you know, like before.” He brushed some hair away from his forehead. “You don’t have to, of course, but I thought it might help jog your memory.”

“Chocolate with peanuts and marshmallows? Was this stuff really my favorite?”

Ford nodded. “Well,” said Stan, “if you really think this’ll help, I guess it’s worth a shot.” He left the kitchen and made his way to the stairs.

“Stan?” Ford called after him, still dealing with the groceries.

“Just a minute.” He walked halfway up the stairs and stopped. “Kids!” he bellowed. A minute passed with nothing, so he shouted again, even louder. There was shuffling from behind the door, and a half-asleep Dipper opened it.

“Grunkle Stan, I thought we don’t have to work today.”

“Yeah, well Sixer’s feeling better, and we need your help with something important. If you and your sister aren’t down in two minutes, I’ll make you sweep and mop the whole shack today.”

Dipper threw his head back and groaned, but Stan had barely gotten out four spoons before they joined the older twins in the kitchen. Stan handed one to each of them, and he pulled out all the ice cream. “You know what they say about breakfast, so dig in,” and he removed the lid from one of the containers of rocky road before scooping out a spoonful.

“This is breakfast?” said Dipper, but Mabel needed no further permission to join her great uncles. “What’s this for?”

“The authority figures in your life are saying ice cream is for breakfast and you’re going to ask why? You’re full of too many questions.” Even Ford didn’t challenge his brother’s decision, but that hardly surprised Stan since what and when he ate had no distinguishable pattern. “Life’s short, anyway, so why not enjoy it?” Dipper finally shrugged and cracked open the vanilla bean.

Stan took a bite of his own, hoping he might catch a spark of some faded memory, but nothing of a woman in a red dress at the foot of his bed or a six-fingered boy came to mind. The rocky road really was good, at least. Those people from a lifetime ago were lost to the past, but with the kids and his brother with him now, laughing and trading spoonfuls of different flavors, he thought he preferred to live in the moment anyway.


End file.
